


Not a Date

by Aithilin



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Altissia (Final Fantasy XV), Fluff, M/M, Poor Ravus Nox Fleuret, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-16 01:42:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29199306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aithilin/pseuds/Aithilin
Summary: In the wake of peace, Ravus feels that he may have been left floundering.
Relationships: Ravus Nox Fleuret/Noctis Lucis Caelum
Comments: 8
Kudos: 19





	Not a Date

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JazzRaft](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JazzRaft/gifts).



When the nations of Eos gathered, it tended to be for a war, a party, or both. 

In the soft and warm lamplight of the Altissian plazas, the gathering was most definitely meant to be both. Nobility from across Eos had descended on the city in the wake of a tentative declaration of peace. The ripples of it spreading across the world until they were as predictable as the canals in the wake of a boat. Some of the overflow would have to be contained, Ravus knew, before the waters stilled entirely. 

Galahd was already declaring sovereignty not twenty-four hours after the ceasefire between Lucis and Niflheim had been called. Cavaugh was making noise of the same now seventy-two hours after the ceasefire. And the disputed territories of greater Lucis— where Nif investment had done so much to maintain the roads and peace over the years— were eerily quiet as the dust settled around them. 

His own men had only just pulled back from their regular patrols to the barely managed bases that dotted the Lucian landmass, all while Tenebrae was now looking to him for some declaration to follow in the wake of the emboldened Galahd troublemakers. But still the nobility of Eos had descended on the allegedly neutral territory of Accordo to celebrate the fledgling peace. 

“Rav.”

The infuriating casualness of the Lucian Prince did little to calm Ravus’ nerves. 

But it did work to bring him back to the task at hand. To the moment, where the central plaza had been graced by the overspill of the party barely contained in the courtyard of the grand estate. Gates had been flung open in some mockery of joyous greeting and now there was no way to close them again. 

Ravus had stepped away from the noise and music and jovial laughter or ridiculous nobility to get a breath of fresh air. Or as fresh as it could be in a city that smelled of salt and fish, and the plethora of restaurants that attempted to mold their image after the city’s romantic reputation. The lamplight stung his eyes, the incessant lapping of the canals a banal wet sound that threatened his sanity with every joyous and singsong greeting of a gondola. Crowds of common people had gathered in the lower plazas and roads, the cacophony of their steps on the cobblestone a headache waiting to happen as men and women came to gawk at the latest fashions on display in the warm light. 

“Thought it was customary to say hi back,” Noctis’ voice was tinged with a boyish grin that Ravus decided now he hated on principle. 

But he called up every ounce of civility he could cling to and turned on the young man. The young Prince he remembered as an inquisitive child hiding behind his sister’s gifts and kindness and his mother’s endless patience. 

He refused to bow. 

“Prince Noctis.”

They were not on equal footing. The boy was merely a Prince. Ravus knew that if he did make a declaration for the peace to reclaim his birthright, he would be named a King in Tenebrae. 

If the Oracle allowed it, he supposed.

But Lunafreya had rarely refused him anything. 

And they both missed the calm forests of their home. 

“Did you want to grab something to eat?”

It was posed as if they weren’t surrounded by the very men and women who could shape the world to their liking. As if there weren’t thousands of gil simply floating through the shared space on silver platters— food no larger than a bite but worth more than any wages the server balancing them could ever hope to earn in a year. 

Noctis’ expectant look was clarified; “I mean, away from here. You know, some actual food? I think there was a Kenny’s down a way.”

The boy was an idiot, Ravus decided. “The Maagho would be more appropriate.”

“The Maagho it is.”

He wanted to stop Noctis and clarify that it wasn’t an invitation. It wasn’t an agreement that he wanted to go anywhere with the Prince, let alone to some clandestine pub owned and managed by a friend of the Lucian King. 

But before any real objection could be made— propriety, reputation, sheer inability to deal with the annoyance that was Noctis’ flouting of all convention— Ravus found himself being led away from the plaza. Noctis had grabbed his hand in the dark, had pulled him along through the crowd as if he was some date being led away to a quiet alcove of impropriety. Before Ravus could properly balk and pull away, they were under the eternally cheerful gaze of a gondola driver, and Ravus had to resist the urge to fall back to the military instinct that had just failed him moments ago. 

Noctis kissed the back of his hand before leading him into the boat with a simple instruction. 

By the time he had caught up with the intention of any reaction, Ravus realized that they were already gliding along the peace of the quiet canals. The glow and noise of the plaza above a distant distraction in his haze of confusion. So Ravus bit back the scathing retorts he wanted to hurl at the presumptuous boy and settled in for the ride with his arm crossed defensively over his chest. “Don’t act as if this is a date, boy.”

“Absolutely.”

“I am simply going with you to prevent you from getting into trouble,”

“Understood, Rav.”

Ravus paused as the gondola slowed by the creaking of an ancient water wheel, allowing several boats to move forward at the crossing paths of the waterways. “Did you kiss my hand?”

“That was before this was absolutely not a date in any way.”

“…Very well.”

At least he was free of the ridiculous expectations of the party.


End file.
